


Greg's Song

by jayceepat (DecemberWine)



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-20
Updated: 2011-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecemberWine/pseuds/jayceepat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The death of actor Heath Ledger makes one of the CSI's think about his personal life (or lack thereof).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I read a story by Juneprota that was so good, I started thinking about something for Greg and Warrick. I was working on an outline when I learned that Heath Ledger had died at the age of 28. This all fell together. This was the only story I ever did with these two character's and it was nominated for a fan-fiction award along with 'Dig the Hole Wide and Deep'. Neither one of them won but at least I was nominated!

Warrick Brown was ‘Mr. Cool’ himself. So, he couldn’t be running into the Crime lab like some over anxious dork even if he was late. Fortunately, he had really long legs so it wasn’t too hard to combine longer steps with a slight acceleration in speed. The two got him into the building quickly without him losing face, well at least too much.

Warrick was finally back to work after two weeks unpaid leave because of some really stupid behavior on his part. He’d let a lot of things overwhelm him and instead of acting like a mature adult and handling them, he’d given into the easy fix of prescription medications and some really poor choices. He’d gotten too involved in a case and then he’d gotten too involved in a pretty prostitute. You would think he would learn from the mistakes his best friend Nick Stokes had made when it came to CSI’s and whores in Las Vegas.

Evidently, he didn’t have the smarts to learn from mistakes, his own or some one else’s. He’d gone over the line and Grissom had handed him his balls on a silver platter, two weeks suspension without pay. He’d spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself until his friend had come over, sat him down and told him he was gonna whip his lazy ass if he didn’t get himself together and get back to work with him. Nick missed his friend and he wasn’t about to let him sink into self-pity without a battle.

Warrick had pulled himself together. He’d talked to Nick for a long time about his divorce, his feeling of complete failure, his disgust with himself for going into the marriage for all the wrong reasons and his dismay when he found out Tina was pregnant and with the way things had gone between them the last few months they were together, it was a sure cinch the baby wasn’t his. Nick had listened, told Warrick he would always be there for him but he was pretty sure he needed someone with a lot more training than him to help him work though all this and swore he would be with him every step of the way. Hell, he’d even offered to go with him to his sessions if he needed the support. That was almost 5 weeks ago and it had not been easy; even with his friends support.

Warrick headed for the locker room, put his stuff away, grabbed his badge, gun and vest and headed for the conference room where Grissom usually gave out assignments. He was surprised to find everyone there including Wendy, Hodges and Bobby Dawson and they all looked pretty quiet.

“What’s happened? Why are you all looking like you’ve had a death in the family?”

Catherine looked up at him with an expression of true sadness on her face. “We’ve just been talking about the news that Heath Ledger died.”

Warrick stopped in surprise and slid down into a chair between Nick and Greg. “That’s why I’m late. I worked a double and fell into bed. I woke up with just enough time to take a shower, dress and grab a bagel on the way out the door. I was listening to the news when I pulled into the lot and they were talking about him being found dead in his apartment. God, the guy was only 28 years old. Just think of what he could have done. Think of what he’s already done.”

Catherine shook her head in agreement with him. “You know, I almost didn’t let Lindsay go see ’10 Things I Hate About You’ because I wasn’t sure I wanted her to go by herself with the kids she was running around with at the time. But she came home just raving about this really great guy and how cute he was and what a good actor and I remember thinking, ‘Yeah, I’ll bet he’s a good actor. He probably had to have coaching to say his words without drooling.’ All she could talk about was his eyes, his chin and how great he looked. When ‘A Knight’s Tale’ came out, I made a point of taking her myself and I was amazed. The movie was off the wall. Who would have thought of a medieval tale with that kind of sound track but I was pretty smitten with him myself? And don’t get me started on ‘Brokeback Mountain’. I still can’t talk about that movie without crying.”

Nick said, “Well, I’m still not too sure about a gay cowboy movie but I gotta admit, I did like ‘A Knight’s Tale’ and ‘The Patriot’ and I’m really looking forward to seeing what he did with ‘the Joker’.

Warrick turned to his other side and took a good luck at his other friend. Greg was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, you could not shut the guy up but he hadn’t said a word. “What about you Greg? Did you like his work?”

Greg looked up at Warrick. His face was a little drawn and he looked sad, almost as though he had a personal reason to mourn the death of such a fine young talent. “Yeah, I did. I’m just down in the dumps because of some of the shit I read on the internet. Cretins coming out of the woodwork about ‘another druggy, fag dead’ and how ‘it’s no great loss’. My lord, if the guy was anything, he was a real horn dog. He seemed to have an affair with every female star he worked with and he had a beautiful little girl with Michele Williams.”

Wendy joined in and agreed. “I saw some of those comments Greg and I could not believe the ignorant filth these sub-humans spouted out in print. They didn’t even have his body out of the bedroom and they were all over the internet yammering about drugs and ‘spoiled, Hollywood fags’. My God, the guy didn’t even live in Hollywood. I read where they found prescription med’s on his nightstand and in his bathroom but good Lord, I shudder to think what all could be found in my house if it came down to that.”

Grissom walked in about that time and started handing out assignments. Wendy, Hodges and Bobby headed back to their respective areas. Warrick and Greg drew a 419 at a private residence in one of the better neighborhoods of Las Vegas. They grabbed their kits and headed out.

Warrick liked working with Greg. He was usually upbeat and enthused about learning anything he could from the CSI 3's. He also asked some smart questions and noticed things that seemed out of place. Besides, the guy had a mind like a garbage dump and was always coming up with odd pieces of information that often were relevant to what they were working on at the time.

Tonight however, he was oddly quiet. He always responded when Warrick asked him a direct question but didn’t volunteer much of anything. The more they worked the scene, the more obvious it was that this was a home invasion gone very wrong. After they spoke with the neighbor’s next door, they were all sure of it. Mr. and Mrs. Roger Young had gone out for the evening to see a show at one of the casinos. Mrs. Henderson, their next door neighbor had a spare key to their house so she could go over and let their dog out before bedtime and then again in the morning. They were planning on making a night of it and had reservations at the Venetian for the night so they could over-indulge and not worry about trying to get home safely.

Mrs. Henderson had gone over about 8.30 PM and got the dog and brought it home with her. She said she really liked the little thing; she was such a well-behaved animal and lots of company and she didn’t want her to be alone in the house all night.

She did not know that the Young’s had installed a security system. They meant to tell her but in their excitement they forgot. They had programmed the system to shut off at 9.00PM for 30 minutes and then come back on again so she could go get ‘Feathers’ the shih-tzu and then bring her back. When she went over at 8.30, she set off the silent alarm and when the thieves showed up at 8.45pm to rob the place, the police were there within 10 minutes responding to the original alarm. Unfortunately, they had paged Mr. Young and told him about the break in and he had made a fast trip home to see what was going on and walked in on the guys and lost his life along with the family jewels.

It was a tragedy of errors all the way around. The one thing that should have protected their home caused the death of Mr. Young. Mrs. Henderson took Mrs. Young and Feathers home with her and said she would take care of them both and the ‘young men’ were welcome to come over if they needed anything else.

Greg and ‘Rick completed their processing and by the time, they had everything collected and labeled, the police had caught the bad guys, just another random incident in the nightlife of Las Vegas.

Things were pretty quiet for the rest of the night and the two investigators actually got off on time. Greg was still looking pretty low and ‘Rick was worried about his silence. Greg and noise were synonymous and this was so wrong, he was concerned. He asked Greg to go out to breakfast with him and they took off for one of their favorite spots.

Greg was still quiet during their meal and finally ‘Rick just came out and asked him what was wrong. He let out a big sigh and said, “You know how everyone goes on and on about ‘the gay cowboy movie’ and how sad their story was? Well I didn’t think it was sad. I was so damned pissed at Ennis I could have just grabbed him off that damn screen and pounded him.”

‘Rick sort of jerked and said, “Whoa, that’s a strong reaction to a movie. Why were you so angry at him?”

‘Because he was a fucking coward, that’s why. He didn’t have the balls to admit that he was in love with a man and he made his life miserable, his wife, his kids and he got Jack killed. If he had just had an inch of backbone, he would have taken Jack up on his offer and they would have had a good life together. But oh no, not him. He was a scared little rabbit and ruined everyone around him.”

“Greg, you know, things were a lot different back then. I’m pretty sure that the story about the old guy that got killed was probably pretty much par for the course back then. Did you forget about that?”

“No I didn’t forget about that and I know that hate is with us still. God knows, you and I see it every day of our lives but he also said he lived with his brother for a while on his brother’s spread. Why couldn’t he and Jack have gone somewhere else, where no one knew them? They could have just said they were brothers, hell half the families in the world have different names because of divorce and re-marriage. They could have passed as half-brothers, both divorced and living together to make ends meet and pay child-support and alimony. It would have worked. They sure as hell wouldn’t have had to be near as careful as they did the way they were and maybe they could have had some love in their life and maybe Jack wouldn’t have been murdered because he was different and needed more than…what was it he said…oh yeah, ‘a couple of high-altitude fucks’ once a year.”

Greg’s voice although low enough not to attract any attention was shaky and ‘Rick noticed his hands were shaking when he tried to pick up his coffee cup. He knew there was more than Greg’s anger at a movie plot going on here. He said, “You know, these booths aren’t doing a thing for my skinny ass and you don’t have too much more padding than I do. What do you say we take this conversation back to your place since it’s so close and get comfortable?”

Greg swallowed and said, “Its okay, ‘Rick. I’m just sounding off because I feel bad about a 28-year-old father dying and every cretin and low-life thinking they have the right to comment on his life. I know you’re dead tired. You don’t have to baby sit me. I’m gonna be all right.”

‘Rick stood up, threw some bills on the table and said, “Well, maybe you are but I’m not sure I am and I wouldn’t mind some company for a little while longer. Unless you don’t want me in your home?”

Greg snorted at him, threw some more bills on the table and said, ‘You know better than that. Come on then, let’s go.”

They pulled into Greg’s complex, got out and headed for his place. Warrick liked Greg’s apartment. Everyone always thought of Greg as a messy, kid but he was in his early thirties and had matured a lot in the eight years he’d been with the crime lab. Being blown through a wall, beaten to a pulp and forced to sit through a coroner’s jury to defend himself against murder had a way of taking the fun out of anyone.

Greg’s apartment was comfortable and quite well furnished. He’d taken a pay-cut to go in the field, but he’d bought his furniture before he became a CSI, when he had a healthy amount of disposable income to play with.

He told Warrick to make himself comfortable, checked his messages and asked him if he wanted coffee. Usually ‘Rick never passed up a chance to drink Greg’s delicious coffee but he told him no and said he didn’t need any more coffee either. They both needed to sleep so they had to come down from their usual caffeine high. Greg asked him if he’d like some water or juice. When told there was apple juice available, ‘Rick said that’s what he wanted.

Greg came back in with two glasses and curled up on the sofa with Warrick. He asked him if he wanted to play a game or something. ‘Rick said no, he wanted to continue their talk.

Greg shrugged and said there wasn’t any more to say. It wasn’t as if either of them had known the man personally. ‘Rick looked at Greg for a while, then he said, “You know friend, I can read you like a book. There’s more than just being upset with a story not turning out the way you wanted. What’s up? You know I’m a good listener and God knows as bad as I’ve fucked up lately, I sure as hell ain’t gonna be judging anyone about anything.”

There was such a long silence that Warrick was about to decide to finish his juice and leave before he made his young friend so mad he got thrown out when Greg let out a deep sigh. “I was angry with the movie yes, but that character made me take a long, long look at myself and I sure didn’t like what I saw.”

‘Rick sat back and got comfortable. He recognized the start of a long story when he heard one.

“I didn’t like what he had done but man what I had done was even worse. At least he knew he had someone who loved him and wanted him so bad they would take desperate chances for him. Me, I was just plain pathetic. I made up a relationship. I imagined feelings and emotions that just didn’t exist. How pathetic is that?”

‘Rick took a deep breath and thought long and hard about what he was about to say. In one way, he was finally going to talk about stuff he’d been trying to handle for the last eight years and in another way, he was scared that maybe he was opening Pandora’s Box and once opened; things would never be the same.

‘You’re talking about you and Nick aren’t you?’

“Oh shit, don’t tell me I was so obvious every one in the lab knows what an idiot I was for all those years?”

“Relax Greg. I’m a CSI-3 and a good one because I watch people and listen to them. I’ve watched you and Nick dance around each other for years now and wondered how it was gonna turn out.”

“It turns out that all this time we thought Grissom was asexual and afraid of relationships, he was banging a subordinate and Nick was the one who really doesn’t know what to do when someone tries to get close to him. You know, it’s really funny and I don’t mean in the ha-ha kind of way; Nick empathizes with everyone because he can’t or won’t get close with anyone. All those years of touching and putting his hand on my chest and standing behind me so close I could feel his body heat against my back and it was…it was just Nick. It wasn’t anything special about me or some sort of connection we had. It was just Nick. I made up this whole fantasy about one day, we would look into each other’s eyes and suddenly he would realize we were soul mates and we would ride off into the sunset together hand in hand. God, I’m so stupid ‘Rick. I wasted eight years on a dumb, unrealistic dream. I wonder sometimes how many times I passed up someone who might have been someone special just because I thought all Nick needed was time to realize how much he cared about me. God how much do I sound like Sara right now?”

Thank God, Greg was so wrapped up in his own misery, he didn’t notice ‘Rick’s reaction. What was it Gram’s used to say…’Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it’. Now he understood that little nugget of wisdom. For years, he’d wondered just how Greg felt about Nick. He had his own ideas; ideas he’d formed from watching and listening and observing for the last eight years. Now that he had confirmation that he’d been right, he was confused. He’d thought if he just knew Greg’s feelings, he would be able to forget about his own but now…all he could feel was hurt. He realized there had been a long period of silence and he also realized that Greg was sort of shrinking in on himself. He looked smaller, younger and fragile. Suddenly ‘Rick realized that Greg thought he was disgusted with his revelations.

“Greg, to dream is the human condition. God you don’t know how many dreams I had about Tina and me and the ‘perfect marriage’ we were gonna have. At least, you based your dreams on facts. I saw the touching and the patting and listened to the conversations. I used to wonder if you two were maybe hooked up and Nick is my best friend and you are right up there as another one. I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell. Are you still in love with him?”

Warrick groaned silently to himself. Way to go Brown. When did you become a card-carrying masochist? Why don’t you just offer him your throat and let him tear it out? It might be quicker than listening to him go on and on about Nick’s virtue’s.

Greg let out a weird sound that ‘Rick thought was a cross between and laugh and a groan. “God, that’s what is so damn pathetic about this whole mess ‘Rick. When I finally got the rose-colored glasses firmly off my eyes, I realized that even if Nick did profess his undying love for me, he really isn’t what I want. How’s that for irony?”

‘Rick sat up a little straighter. “What do you want Greg?”

“I want someone who is comfortable in his or her own skin. I really do swing both ways and I don’t care if it’s a man or a woman just so long as they are smart and interesting and willing to accept me as I am with all my…my…my moles and freaky quirks. I want someone who makes me laugh. I want someone I can make laugh. Most of all, I want someone who is not ashamed of loving me; who is not ashamed or embarrassed by me loving them. God Warrick I want someone who just wallows in my love. You know in this weird, messed up world of ours even a hetero couple has just a 50/50 chance of making it together. Think how much harder it is for a gay couple, male or female. Lord if I found someone who loved me completely and was willing to let me love them, I’d hang on to them for the rest of our lives.”

Greg looked over at ‘Rick when he realized he hadn’t gotten an answer or response and was sort of surprised to see ‘Rick looking at him almost like a stranger.

“What’s up Brown? Why am I getting the evil eye from you? Surely if you wondered about me and Nick, you must have realized I’m not hung up on plumbing. What are you thinking?”

‘Rick was a gambler. He’d been one all his life and not just in a casino or a betting parlor. ‘Rick gambled on life and he knew this was the time to up the ante…a lot.

“Would you like to go out with me Friday night? I know you have it off and Catherine asked me to trade so she could take Lindsay to a game out of town next Tuesday.”

Well, ‘Rick just discovered another way to shut Sander’s up, just ask him out on a date. Greg had opened his mouth but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and looked at his friend and then tried again to respond.

“Uhhhh…Warrick, when you say go out with you do you mean like two buddies going to a game together or going to a bar to cruise the scene or…? Would you please define ‘go out’ for me?”

“I mean ‘go out’ like in I pick you up about 9.00PM and we go to this little place I know. They have great music, not that crap you like but real music with lyrics and a recognizable tune. They have food and a primo bartender. We spend some time together and enjoy ourselves. That kind of ‘go out’.”

“Uh, ‘Rick…you do know that sounds almost like a date kind of ‘go out’ don’t you?”

“Jeeze Sanders, what part of me picking you up at 9.00PM did you not understand? If you don’t want to, just say no. I will understand and it won’t affect our working together or our being friends.”

“No, no damn it I don’t mean no, I mean yes I want to go out with you. The ‘no’ was I wasn’t thinking about saying no I…hell, I think I’ll just shut up while I’m ahead.”

Warrick laughed out loud and said, “Good thinking Sanders. You know the old saying, ‘It’s better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than open it and prove it’. I’m heading home now to get some sleep. I’ll see you at work tonight and pick you up Friday night at 9.00pm.” He got up and walked out leaving a very confused man behind.

Greg sat on the couch for a long time after ‘Rick left trying to figure out how they got from the death of a fine young actor to a date Friday night. He went to bed in a daze and pretty much stayed that way just waiting for Friday night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out on the town brings some big changes.

Greg had been digging through his closet since 7:00pm. He’d tried on and rejected practically every single piece of clothing he owned. It was pretty obvious they weren’t going to a gay bar so that excluded the leather and see through shirts. He was pretty sure from the way Warrick had come into work after dates in the past, that ‘Rick was a classy dresser when he took someone out so he needed to take a few pains with his appearance. Okay, that meant no jeans or wrinkled khaki’s and for damn sure, not one of his wild t-shirts.

After one hour and 45 agonizing minutes, he was dressed in a pair of dark brown dress slacks, a pale green long sleeved cotton shirt and a light tan dress blazer. He didn’t have on eye-makeup, which he would have worn to a gay bar no matter how straight his escort and he didn’t have his hair gelled, spiked and glittered. He felt pretty plain actually. But when he opened the door and saw the look on Warrick’s face when he saw him, he thought maybe he wasn’t as dull as he thought he was. Warrick not only lit up with pleasure, he licked his lips and for one brief second Greg knew how the sacrificial lamb felt just before the dragon swallowed it whole.

They headed out for their evening with both of them trying to maintain small talk. Warrick was a little worried because Greg seemed to be distracted and Greg didn’t have the guts to tell him it was because he was still in shock from Warrick opening the door for him and making sure, he was buckled in before he went around and got in the drivers seat.

They pulled up in the packed parking lot of a club Greg knew he’d never seen before. It looked a little run down from the outside and the neighborhood wasn’t the best but Greg figured he and Warrick between them could take care of themselves so he started to get out but again, ‘Rick walked around and opened the door for him. When they walked into the club, Greg could feel Warrick’s hand on his back and it was oddly warm and comforting. They were taken to a nice sized table on the edge of a well-maintained dance floor. The waitress greeted ‘Rick by name and asked him if they wanted menu’s. ‘Rick asked Greg if he could order for him and when he said sure, he asked him if he had any allergies to anything and Greg said only to being hungry. The waitress laughed and ‘Rick began to give her their order. Greg was looking around in surprise, pleasant surprise. The club was a lot bigger than it looked from the outside and while the outside might have been a little run-down, the inside was very nice. The dance floor was large and well waxed. The tables were not the little tiny knee-breakers he was used to; they were big enough for food and drinks. The chairs were comfortably padded and very clean. The whole club was clean and well furnished and although he saw some people on the other side of the room smoking, he couldn’t smell anything. They had a killer ventilation system. The waitress was back with drinks; ‘Rick had ordered JD and coke for both of them and one sip told him he was in store for a good night. The drink was excellent and the food that started appearing was even better. A platter of some sort of meat on a stick that turned out to be the most delicious pork he’d ever tasted in his life with a dipping sauce to die for. Then they brought some little crystal bowls with something that Greg did not recognize until he tasted and…still couldn’t figure out what he was eating. He looked up to see ‘Rick grinning at him with such a pleased expression on his face. He couldn’t help but grin back and say, “Okay…what is this?”

“It’s a champagne sorbet. Le Roi serves it between courses to ‘cleanse your palate’.”

Greg took another spoonful and asked if he could just have a tub of it because it was just about the best thing he’d ever tasted. ‘Rick and the waitress who’d walked up in time to hear his remark both burst out laughing and she said she was going to tell Le Roi what he’d said. That he would get a real kick out of that.

They ate for the next hour and every time Greg was sure he’d burst if he took one more bite, another fantastic dish appeared on the table and he thought, “Well, just one more little bite won’t hurt.”

He heard a noise behind him and Warrick told him to stand up for a second. He did and Warrick scooted his chair around the table next to him so he could see the stage. Warrick held his chair as he reseated himself and Greg began to think that he could get to like being treated not like a girl so much as someone or something special. The group tuned for a few seconds and then started a song with a quick tempo and a melody that Greg thought he recognized but wasn’t sure. He kept trying to catch the name in his head but finally leaned over into Warrick’s shoulder and talking directly into his ear, asked him what the tune was. Warrick didn’t answer him right away and Greg thought he hadn’t heard him and was just going to ask him again when ‘Rick turned his head and putting his lips close to Greg’s ear, breathed gently, ‘Take the ‘A’ Train’. Greg felt himself shiver part from the soft breath in his ear, part from the feel of ‘Rick’s equally soft lips brushing against his ear lobe and part just from the warmth of the man against him.

When ‘Rick turned back toward the stage, he stayed close to Greg. In fact, he put his arm on the back of Greg’s chair and pulled him closer to him so Greg was against his shoulder. The whole thing was playing hell with Greg’s nervous system. He was full of good food, he still hadn’t really wrapped his head around the fact that he was out on a date with Warrick Brown. ‘Mr. Cool’ Warrick Brown; the man who probably had broken more hearts in the greater Las Vegas area than the Carl Jr.’s Bacon Burger and the double Whopper put together. He’d had a few more drinks than he should have but they just tasted so good with all the fantastic food and now, sitting here, leaning into the big, warm, wonderful  
smelling man next to him, he was in a dream world that he had to keep reminding himself was real.

They sat there for two more numbers and then Greg began to notice something unusual. Well, more unusual than this whole surreal evening and that was saying a lot. There were couples in their 60’s, 50’s, 40’s down to their 20’s. There were quite a few female/female couples dancing and I mean drop dead gorgeous women. There were an equal number of male/male couples dancing. Everyone was having a hell of a good time and there were no raised voices or arguments; just people enjoying the music and each other. When the next number started, Warrick leaned over and asked him if he wanted to dance. He didn’t even try to figure out what was happening. He just got up and headed out to the floor. He was not surprised at all when Warrick put his arms around him and just naturally began to lead. Nor was he especially surprised when Warrick turned out to be such a smooth dancer, he was sure he could partner a corpse and make it look good. He did have to chuckle a little at that thought. Warrick leaned down a little and asked him what was so funny. He told him about the corpse and ‘Rick let out an amused snort and told Greg he was gonna cut off his liquor if that was what he was coming up with. Greg told him it didn’t matter. He was drunk on the evening, the music, the food….

‘Rick pulled back and looked down at him. ‘And what Sanders. Don’t even think you’re gonna just leave it there.”

“Okay, I’m drunk on the company.”

‘Rick pulled Greg’s hand against his chest right over his heart and put his hand over it. He pulled him even closer and let out a happy sigh. “Now that’s more like it.”

As they danced by the group, the leader leaned down and said hello to ‘Rick. It was pretty obvious they knew each other and well. There was affection and pleasure in their exchange with each other. ‘Rick introduced Greg to ‘Jazz Lewis’, the best sax player in the world according to him. Greg had to agree with him after listening to his smooth notes for the last 45 minutes. They danced some more and then the group took a short break. ‘Rick asked Greg if he wanted to go and he said no, he would like to listen to their next set. He could tell by the pleased smile that ‘Rick was happy with his answer.

When their break was over and the musicians had come back on stage, Greg was ready to hear some more really great tunes. He would not give up his music but he liked to think he was mature enough to enjoy more than one type of anything.

He was surprised when Jazz took the microphone and said, “We have an old friend in the audience tonight. It’s been a while since he’s been here but he’s till the coolest man in town and I can’t think of any thing better than to get him up here and play a set with us. Ladies and Gentlemen, give a warm welcome to the piano man…’Rick Brown.’

Greg just sat there in amazement. He knew ‘Rick could play. He’d heard Nick talk about a case he and Warrick had handled that was a murder in one of the lounge’s downtown. One night when he’d had too much to drink, Nick had let it slip that ‘Rick had fallen hard for the female singer in their case and she had asked him to leave the crime lab and join her. Nick said, ‘Rick was more than good enough to be a professional jazz pianist but the woman had turned out to be a junkie and ‘Rick did not want to become involved with that life. He’d turned her down but it had cost him bad. He’d almost gone back to gambling. Nick had also let it slip that he’d found ‘Rick and stayed with him all night to make sure he didn’t go back to the tables.

Everyone joked and kidded about Greg and his motor mouth but he was a very good listener and he was fanatical about keeping other people’s secrets. At one time or another, almost every one in the lab had cried on his shoulder or had a little too much to drink and spilled some private thoughts. Not one word had ever passed his lips. But still, having Nick telling him about ‘Rick and seeing the man get up, turn and drop a kiss on his cheek and then walk up to the stage and join the group…well that was two different animals entirely. It was obvious from the wave of applause and hollers when ‘Rick stepped up on the stage that he was well known to most of the people in the audience. When ‘Rick and the guys swung into a spirited rendition of ‘Hit the Road, Jack’ it was also obvious that the man may have been a first class CSI but damn, he was a first rate musician also. When the song ended, Greg was clapping and whistling enthusiastically along with the rest of the folks. They played a few more songs, mixing up the fast dance tunes with some slow dancing romantic numbers. They had just finished a fast one and ‘Rick told Jazz he had a tune he wanted to do. Jazz told him to start it off and they would all follow his lead.

There was a silence in the club for a moment and then ‘Rick began to play a soft, sweet melody that Greg could not recognize. He was sure he’d never heard this one before. His eyes were locked on the beautiful man sitting at the piano. He was watching him so hard; it was a brief second before he realized that Warrick was looking right back at him as he started to sing.

‘We’ve known each other for so long now.’  
‘We’ve seen the bad times and the good.’  
‘I don’t know when ‘maybe’ became ‘somehow’.  
‘Maybe we…Somehow you and I could…’

‘I want to start something with you.’  
‘I want a brand new ‘you and me’.  
‘I want to start something with you.’

Greg felt the room disappear and there were only two people still there. Just him and the ‘piano man’. He heard the words repeating over and over in his mind. ‘I want to start something with you. I want a brand new you and me.’ He didn’t hear the rest of the song; he never knew when the drums began a slow, rhythmic backbeat. He didn’t hear the sweet sax pick up an alternate melody and weave it in and around the main tune that Warrick was playing. He didn’t hear or see anything but the man looking into his eyes telling him he wanted to start something with him.

He did remember the song ending and the moment of silence before the audience stood and screamed their approval of the song and the singer. It was like seeing flashes of scenes in a strobe light. He saw Warrick walking back through the crowds of fans to him. Flash. He was walking across the club with Warrick’s hand again on his back. Flash. They were outside walking across the parking lot. Flash. They were driving down a street that Greg did not recognize. Flash. They were pulling into his complex parking lot. Flash. They were walking up the stairs to his apartment. Flash. They were inside standing in his living room.

“Greg…Greg. Come on man, you haven’t said a word for a long time now. What’s the matter? You were doing just fine until I got up to play with the group. Did I make you mad when I left you? Surely you knew I played; I mean someone had to have mentioned it…Hell surely I’ve mentioned it at least once in the last eight years. Please Greg, talk to me. You’re scaring me.”

“What’s the name of the last song you played?”

“It doesn’t have a name. I wrote it; it’s not finished yet.”

“Why did you play an unfinished, untitled song in front of a room full of people?”

“Because you were there.”

Greg took a few shaky steps forward. He walked up to ‘Rick, put his hands on his chest and slowly slid them up around his neck. His eyes were locked onto ‘Ricks. He was looking clear down to the bottom of his soul and he must have liked what he saw because he leaned forward so slowly and so deliberately ‘Rick thought he would never make it the few inches between them.

‘Rick had no idea why he didn’t close the space but somehow he knew this was Greg’s show. All he could do was wait and see what would happen. When he felt Greg’s breath on his lips he let out a small, shaky moan followed by a louder one a second later when he felt Greg’s tongue; just the very tip of his tongue lick gently across his lower lip. He stayed so still, he almost stopped breathing and then the wet tip was back again. This time it outlined his upper lip. He held still again and this time, oh this time he felt that sneaky little wet tip lick between his lips, opening them up so it could slip inside and then he felt Greg…all of Greg up against him so close he didn’t know where his body stopped and Greg’s began and he felt and tasted Greg’s mouth. They both just clung together for a lifetime; kissing, tasting, exploring. When Greg pulled back they both gulped a huge lungful of air. ‘Rick forgot his whole ‘Mr. Cool’ persona and told Greg with a very shaky voice that they needed to sit down before his knees gave out.

‘Rick had his eyes closed when he said that and when nothing happened, he opened his eyes to find Greg looking at him with a happy smile. “I think we should conserve your energy old man. If one or two kisses affect you like that, maybe we ought to take this to the bedroom. That way, you won’t have to move again if anything else should arise that needs your attention.”

It took a few tries before Warrick was able to get his mouth and brain working again. The nerve of this kid.

“Why you little brat. That was a hell of a lot more than one or two kisses. That was a lifetime of kisses that I’ve been waiting a lifetime for. And I’m telling you right now. If this old man takes you back to that bedroom, you’re not getting out of it for sometime to come. I’ll show you about things that need attention. I’m gonna pay so much attention to that smart ass of yours you may not be able to sit tonight.”

Greg just smiled even bigger. He turned ‘Rick around and started pulling him with him down the hall to his bedroom. ‘Promises, Promises and besides, who says you get to top? Maybe I’m gonna be the top and your ass is gonna be out of commission for the next 24 hours? What do you have to say about that, Mr. Cool?”

Warrick bent his head and fastened his mouth on Greg’s neck. He bit and sucked and nibbled as they made their way to the bedroom. “I say we take turns and we both show up walking funny. How does that sound to you?”

By now, they had made it through the door and Greg was so thrilled he had cleared his bed before Warrick picked him up, even if clearing consisted of picking everything, throwing it in his closet and slamming the door. He slipped ‘Rick’s jacket off and laid it over the back of his valet; then he took his off and did the same. He walked back and began to unbutton ‘Rick’s emerald green silk shirt _(that matched his eyes and made him look like an exotic big cat. A very dangerous, exotic big cat.)_ He slowly slid the shirt down Warrick’s arms and leaned forward to press a kiss just over his heart. He felt ‘Ricks arms go around him and one big hand cupped the back of his head and held his mouth against his chest.

“Can you feel it beating? It’s gonna pound its way out of my chest and it’s all your fault. You’ve bewitched me I think.” Greg kissed his chest again and licked a wet tongue across his nipple followed by a gentle nip of sharp teeth. Warrick hissed and caught his breath and thought to himself, _Christ, I don’t even have my pants off and he’s still got all his clothes on and I’m about to come in my pants like a teenager. What the hell is he doing to me?_

After what seemed like hours and hours of stroking and licking and nipping and kissing, they were both naked and in the big, comfortable bed. Greg was on his back, holding on to his carved headboard with a death grip while ‘Rick was trying to swallow his prick down to the root. Actually, he was swallowing his prick down to the root and Greg was just trying to keep from strangling his not quite lover because he was pretty sure he had years of cum stored away up there and the way ‘Rick was sucking on him and deep-throating him and damn the man HUMMING around his cock, he knew the dam was gonna break just any second now and it was gonna be like a scene in one of those disaster movies where the dam breaks and this huge wall of water comes crashing through taking down everything in it’s path. He tried to tell ‘Rick he was gonna blow but ‘Rick was ignoring him…at least he thought he was ignoring him until he was just ready to let go and…and…and…and Rick reached up and squeezed the base of his cock so he couldn’t come.

He didn’t know whether to cuss the man out, cry or just whine like a baby, so he did all three.

Warrick, the prick, let go of his cock with happy, satisfied, shit eating grin on his face and said, “What’s the matter baby? Is there something you want? All you have to do is ask for it nice and you can have everything you want.”

“God Damn it Brown, you know I was just getting ready to blow down the dam so to speak. Now let go of me and get back down there.”

“Oh no no. That’s not what I call asking for it nice. Nice means soft, sweet words and pleases and thank yous. You’re gonna have to do better than that.” With that, ‘Rick did return to his aching prick. He fastened his mouth over the tip and used his tongue, just the tip of his tongue to sweep back and forth in the sensitive slit. Unfortunately, he did not release his death grip on Greg’s cock so all he did was make him more and more frantic for release. Greg cursed, pleaded, threatened, cried and tried to throw ‘Rick off but all he did was just get his prick further and further into that warm, wet hell on earth that ‘Ricks mouth had become. Finally just short of passing out, Greg managed to fasten his hands in ‘Rick’s hair and gently pull his head up so he was looking at him.

“Please Rick, please let me come. I want to come in your mouth so bad but if you don’t like that, it’s okay. I know not every gay man does like to swallow. Just please let me come even if you pull off and let me shoot on my stomach. Please baby, make me come. I want to come for you so bad.”

‘Rick pulled off his cock again and smiled the most angelic, sweet smile Greg had ever seen on a real, live son-of-a-bitch cock-sucker and said, “Baby, all you had to do was ask. You know I’ll give you anything you want.”

With that, ‘Rick let go of Greg’s cock and relaxed his throat and swallowed it down. When it was down his throat, he hummed and swallowed and Greg exploded.

Greg was pretty sure he yelled, at least when the world swung into view again some time later, his throat felt like he’d yelled. Warrick was laying beside him with his arms wrapped around him and his rock hard dick pressing into Greg’s stomach. Greg purred. There really was no other word to use for the contented sound he made. His eyes felt like they had weights on the lids so he just kept them closed but he could see Warrick even with his eyes closed. He knew he had a very satisfied smile on his face. Why not, Greg was too damn wrung out now to care what happened and he sure as hell didn’t have the strength to top a feather pillow.

They lay there together for a few more minutes and finally Greg got enough energy to tell ‘Rick that first top was all his. ‘Rick just grunted and told Greg, he sort of thought that was the way he was going to feel. That is if he ever woke up. He was beginning to think he’d have to take his business into the shower and take care of it there. Greg managed to wrap his arms around him a little tighter and told him never. If he ever wasted a perfectly good hard on that way, he (Greg) would commit bodily harm on him. ‘Rick kissed him gently and said, “that may well be, but I’m really not into fucking the dead. I don’t mind doing most of the work but I at least want you to be conscious, well I guess I can take semi-conscious.”

Greg opened one eye and glared at him. “You damn well better take semi-conscious when you caused my condition by sucking my life-force out of me.”

“Hum, is that what I did? Sucked the life force out of you?”

“Damn straight you did. So now you can prep me and turn me over and hold my legs up and I’ll just lay here and let you fuck yours out.”

That wasn’t quite the way it worked out. Oddly enough, when ‘Rick slipped the second finger in Greg’s ass, he just happened to hit something inside that caused Greg to get his second wind so to speak. By the time it was all over, Warrick was a quivering mess and Greg…well Greg discovered he had some more cum in there. Well it was in there, now it was all over his stomach and chest and ‘Rick had just laid down in it so now it was all over both of them.

They spent a few minutes arguing about who should go get something to clean them up. Warrick’s position was that Greg was younger so he should be the one to take care of him while Greg argued that he had just had two gigantic orgasm’s and he was in no shape to get up right then.

Eventually, ‘Rick got up. He was pretty sure that just as soon as Greg realized he worshiped the sheets Greg fucked him on, he would be completely at his mercy.

They slept, curled up together like children. When Greg woke up, he knew before he opened his eyes that ‘Rick was awake and looking at him. He finally stirred and sure enough, the beautiful green eyes were just as gorgeous as he remembered.

“What are you thinking about, Love?” He turned into ‘Ricks warm shoulder and tasted his skin.

“I know what I’m going to call the song.”

Greg raised his head and looked into ‘Rick’s smiling face. “You do? Great, what are you going to call it? “I want to start something with you’ would be a great title.”

“I’m going to call it ‘Greg’s Song’.”  
* * * * * * * * * *  
For the rest of their long life together, they drank a toast every year to a young, 28 year old actor who had died much too young.

‘Greg’s Song’ became a top 10 hit much to the shock and surprise of everyone; everyone except Greg and all of the patrons of the club who’d heard it for the first time that special night.

Their only concession to public opinion…Alicia Keys recorded the song not a male singer. Of course, that was pretty stupid since the news about the lyricist and the subject was on the internet before the song was ever released.


End file.
